


Under the White Hand

by CPFics



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Racism, Trans Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CPFics/pseuds/CPFics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn and hir friends are studying at Arda university. At first, it seems like everyone's friendly and accepting, but things begin to turn sour when the White Hand emerges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drammatis Personae (&FCs), some information about Arda University and a small introduction

**DRAMMATIS PERSONAE ( _& FCs_ )**

Characters without FCs look essentially the same as in the Peter Jackson movies, but roughly 18-20 years old.

 

Aragorn Elessar ([ _Santiago Cabrera_](http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/17900000/Santiago-Cabrera-santiago-cabrera-17911771-795-975.jpg))

 

Arwen Undómiel ([ _Tamanna Bhatia_](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ayndfX3vTq8/UfbQ3B06vyI/AAAAAAAACQQ/I8O04oWm_cQ/s1600/Tamanna-Bhatia-Cute-Smily-Face-Still-.jpg))

 

Boromir Ecthelion ( _[John Boyega](http://www.moviemarkers.net/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/John%2BBoyega.jpg) (but with longer hair)_ )

 

Éomer King

 

Éowyn King

 

Faramir Ecthelion ( _[Solomon Glave](http://www.nextmovie.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/Solomon-Glave-500.jpg) (again with longer hair)_ )

 

Frodo Baggins

 

George ‘Treebeard’ Fangorn ([ _Kim Bum_](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LYAh9nBORZ4/UDiIqa-dUJI/AAAAAAAAAiE/rIMx0origZI/s400/474066.jpg))

 

Gimli Khazad ([ _Joshua Logan Moore_](http://www.buzzfocus.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/joshualoganmoore_3.jpg))

 

Grima Wormtongue

 

Halbarad Dùnedain ([ _Howard Charles_](http://www.rsc.org.uk/images/content/People/Howard-Charles-2-243x317.jpg))

 

Legolas Silvanelf

 

Meriadoc ‘Merry’ Brandybuck

 

Peregrin ‘Pippin’ Took

 

Rosie Cotton

 

Samwise ‘Sam’ Gamgee ([ _Daniel Kaluuya_](http://images.tvrage.com/people/64/191779.jpg))

 

Tauriel Woodguard ([ _Carmen Solomon_](https://31.media.tumblr.com/27e0e088d2c433a6009d43cc358775ad/tumblr_inline_n0fwiaU8r61qefarv.jpg))

 

Théodred King ([ _Jamie Campbell Bower_](http://www.theplace2.ru/archive/jamie_campbell_bower/img/HQ011.jpg))

 

_Also:_

Elrond Undòmiel, Gandalf Stormcrow, Gilraen Elessar, Galadriel Artanis, Saruman Curunír, John Tolkien, and others…

 

* * *

 

**Arda University**

 

_Campus_ inspired by [University of Gloucestershire](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gG4UHMmdQYI/Uqm33MThquI/AAAAAAAACmU/Ay5WglyoWRQ/s1600/fch111.jpg) and the [University of Bristol](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c-gupwsDD6k/TmDrF1BdP4I/AAAAAAAAAAY/m6Lo4oSH1oc/s1600/wills%2Bmemorial%2Bbuilding.jpg).

 

_Halls_

Flats of six [individual en suite bedrooms](http://www.mmu.ac.uk/images/accommodation/halls_detail/cambridge_hall/cam1.jpg) including showers, [one kitchen](http://www.cardiff.ac.uk/for/resource/7493.34511.file.eng.475.349.jpg), [one living room](http://www.bath.ac.uk/study/images/accommodation/umh-livingroom-200.jpg).  On campus.

* * *

**Introduction**

_Almost nine years earlier..._  

 

“Maybe you could go to an all-boys secondary school,” Gilraen suggested, pulling another small stack of brochures towards her across the table.

 

“Mum, I’m not a boy,” it had slipped out before ze could stop it. Ze looked up at hir mother quickly, terrified.

 

A shadow of shock and surprise flickered over Gilraen’s face before she composed herself.

 

“So, you’re a girl?” she said carefully. Aragorn shook hir head.

 

“No. I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know. I don’t feel like I fit either of them.”

 

Gilraen looked at hir for a minute, before pushing the small stack of brochures away again.

 

“Not an all-boys school, then, OK.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aragorn moves into University

It was Thursday, and Aragorn was nervous. Ze was sitting in the passenger seat of hir mum’s car, everything ze owned boxed up in the back. Attached to the tow bar was the horse trailer, and inside was hir horse, Roheryn. Ze was going to university.

Ze hadn’t really wanted to go to uni. Ze’d wanted to stay at home and read books from and about ancient civilisations, and make and sell art. Maybe release an album. But Gilraen had insisted it would be worthwhile, and eventually ze had chosen Arda University. Not just because its accommodation prices were reasonable and because their family friend, Elrond, who had first kindled hir love of the ancient world, taught Classics there, but also because hir girlfriend, Elrond’s daughter, Arwen, would be nearby.

Arwen was going to be studying dance at the university. Elrond had wanted her to go to Europe on a scholarship, but Arwen had not wanted to leave everything she knew behind to get an education almost identical to the one she could receive locally. Although Elrond lived closed to the university, Arwen had chosen to live in halls. They had not been put in the same flat, but at least Aragorn would be able to see her much more than ze had been recently, while ze and hir mother had been living in the North.

The car turned a corner and all of a sudden the university came into view. It was huge, sprawling, and built with large yellow stones, and it had towers and turrets. Unconsciously Aragorn reached up to the pendant Arwen had given hir, which hung around hir neck, and twisted it between hir fingers.

Aragorn wasn’t usually nervous when meeting new people, but this time was different. Until ze had started dating Arwen ze had never kept a relationship going for more than a few days, because none of them understood hir like Arwen did. Arwen understood that Aragorn was not the date-one-person-at-a-time type, and that is wasn’t that she personally wasn’t good enough, it was just that no one person would ever be enough. Ze had so much affection in hir, and ze gave so much, and so ze needed so much in return. It was the kind of behaviour that people judged harshly, though, and Aragorn didn’t want to be the polyamorous agender kid with no friends for the next three years.

Gilraen pulled the car into a parking space and cut the engine, then turned to look at hir.

“You okay?” she asked.

Aragorn sighed and nodded, letting the pendant drop back against hir chest. Even is ze didn’t make friends, ze thought, Arwen would always be there. And Elrond would make sure ze was OK.

They walked to reception, where Aragorn was given hir room key, the code for the stables and a stable number for Roheryn. When they entered the barn, there were three people there already. One of them, who looked like the father, stepped forward to greet them.

“Ah, are you just starting too? I’m Denethor, and these are my sons, Boromir and Faramir. You see, boys, you can start making friends already.”

One of the boys determinedly ignored his father, his shoulders tense as he gave Aragorn and Gilraen a curt nod. The other frowned at Denethor’s back, before stepping forward himself.

“Good to meet you,” he said. He was tall and handsome, and held himself with confidence. “I’m Boromir. That’s quite a horse you have there.”

“Thank you,” Aragorn replied, “My name’s Aragorn.”

“Faramir,” Denethor said, “Why don’t you come and introduce yourself?” There was a smile on his face, but he looked at Faramir coldly. Boromir interrupted.

“Father,” he said, “Why don’t you help me get the tack from the car.”

As soon as they’d left the barn, Faramir relaxed, and turned to Aragorn.

“Sorry if I seemed rude, it’s just … my father and I, we don’t … and I’m not his _son_.”

“It’s OK,” Aragorn replied, “I understand.”

At that moment, Denethor and Boromir returned with their arms full of saddles and bridles. Aragorn led Roheryn into his stable, which happened to be right next to Faramir’s horse’s.

“Faramir, what are your pronouns?” ze hissed over the partition. Faramir seemed to be hit with a wave of relief.

“Xe. With an ‘x’.” xe replied, smiling for the first time since Aragorn had arrived. Aragorn nodded and winked, before busying hirself settling Roheryn into his stable.

Once that was done, ze and Gilraen began taking boxes up to hir new room. With the help of some student volunteers, it took them only two trips. When everything was in, Gilraen stood up and looked about.

“You’ll be alright unpacking everything yourself, won’t you, dear?” she said, “I don’t want to get in your way.”

“You wouldn’t be in my way,” Aragorn said, smiling, “but yes, I will be alright unpacking everything myself.”

“I’ll leave you then, if you’re sure, and I can be back before dark.”

“OK,” ze said, “drive safe.”

“You know I will,” she said. “Call me if you need anything, yeah? Love you.”

She planted a kiss on hir cheek and left with a wave. Aragorn sighed and propped hir door open, then began unpacking his clothes into his wardrobe and his books onto his shelves. He was just setting his guitar and cello up on their stands when there was a commotion at the entrance to the flat, and a few seconds later a blonde head poked round the door.

“Afternoon, flatmate!” it’s owner said cheerfully, “I’m Éomer, and my sibling Éowyn will be in in a minute. How are you doing?”

Aragorn smiled – hir new flatmate’s cheer was infectious. Ze stood up and went over to the door.

“Aragorn,” ze said, “and I’m doing fine, thanks. Do you need any help with your bags?”

“Ah, that’d be great, thank you. We should get this moved ASAP or Éowyn won’t even be able to get eir stuff through the door.”

Aragorn immediately relaxed at Éomer’s use of a gender-neutral pronoun for his sibling, and sure enough, as soon as they’d moved Éomer’s bags into his room, there was another commotion at the door and yet another blonde head made it’s way into the flat. It was obvious that Éomer and Éowyn were twins: apart from Éomer’s stubble it was almost impossible to tell them apart. Éomer rushed to help em.

“Is Uncle Théoden not with you?” he asked. Éowyn shook eir head.

“He’s helping Théodred get his stuff upstairs,” ey said, before ey noticed Aragorn, “Hi, I’m Éowyn.”

“Hi, I’m Aragorn,” ze replied, “What are you two studying?”

“I’m studying sociology,” said Éowyn, as Éomer optimistically picked up three bags at once and staggered into eir room, “and Éomer’s doing law.”

Éomer dropped the bags with a huff and turned to Aragorn with a grin.

“So no smoking illegal substances or downloading films while I’m here, OK?” he said, winking at Aragorn as he passed on the way back to his own room.

“He’s joking,” Éowyn clarified as ey began to unpack, “he’s never paid for a movie or song in his life.”

Throughout the next few hours, their remaining flatmates arrived and introduced themselves. Frodo was small, asexual, aromantic, and shy but cheerful, and immediately got on brilliantly with Éomer. Sam, was only slightly taller, and slightly fatter as well, and spoke with a strong West Country accent. He filled his windowsill with terrariums. He too was asexual and aromantic, and he and Frodo had been together since their early teens. Tauriel was tall, pretty and athletic, with red-brown hair, and carried herself with a confidence that showed she trusted her own judgment. The first thing she did when she moved in was cover her walls with posters of attractive female celebrities.

That evening they were all too tired to cook, so they ordered pizzas.

“So,” said Éomer, as they sat down to eat, “Four boys, one girl, one other. That’s not too bad a combination.”

“Actually, I’m not a boy,” said Aragorn, “I’m not anything exactly.”

“The same as me, then,” said Éowyn with a smile.

“Three boys, one girl, two others, then.” Éomer amended. “Well, that’s even better,”

After dinner they piled onto the sofa and watched an X-Men movie. Frodo and Sam sat on pillows on the floor with their backs against the sofa and their hands joined, Tauriel squeezed herself into one corner of the sofa with Éowyn next to her, and Éomer next to em, propping himself up on Aragorn, who was in the other corner. Before the movie was through, Éomer had fallen asleep on Aragorn, and ze, resigned to the fact that he would probably be stuck their for a while, had fallen asleep as well, with one hand resting on Éomer’s arm.

Aragorn was woken in the middle of the night by Éomer stirring. He had apologised profusely for keeping Aragorn trapped on the sofa, and for waking hir up, but when he realised ze hadn’t really minded, and they both realised that neither of them could be bothered to get up, they curled up together on the sofa again, and they were still there when Tauriel came in to make breakfast the next morning, wrapped loosely in each other’s arms.

~*~

It was Tauriel who opened the flat door to Arwen that morning. A shadow of doubt passed over the redhead’s face when Arwen introduced herself, but nonetheless she stood aside to let their guest in.

Aragorn and Éomer, woken by the doorbell, were just beginning to stir on the sofa when Arwen entered. Aragorn smiled sleepily when ze saw her. She walked over to hir, bent down and pressed a kiss to his lips. Immediately Éomer scrambled to his feet.

“Oh my goodness, are you two…? Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry, it’s not what…we didn’t….“

Arwen laughed.

“I don’t mind,” she said, combing her fingers through Aragorn’s hair, “ze’s a very affectionate person, and ze likes to share hir affection, I understand. Although ze should probably change out of the clothes ze’s been wearing for twenty-four hours straight. Ze also has a horse who would need turning out if I hadn’t been nice enough to do it when I did mine.”

Aragorn groaned and thanked Arwen, and hauled hirself from the sofa, and drowsily led Arwen to hir room.

Arwen did not stay for long: Elrond had insisted they go out for lunch so that he could make sure she was OK and had at least one proper meal on her first day of independence. As soon as she had gone, Aragorn found Éomer reading on the couch. He had straw stuck to his socks and in his hair from when he had rushed down to turn out his horse, Firefoot. Ze leaned over the back and draped hir arms around his neck. Éomer sighed.

“Are you sure Arwen doesn’t mind this?”

“Hundred percent sure,” said Aragorn, “the first thing she said to me when we were alone this morning was, ‘I’m glad you’re with people who accept and appreciate you for who you are,’ and the second thing she said was, ‘you and Éomer are so cute together.’ Do _you_ mind?”

Éomer shook his head.

“I assume I won’t be the only one,”

Aragorn shrugged.

“I don’t know. Depends.” Ze walked round and plonked hirself next to Éomer. “Depends if I meet anyone else. Depends if they’re OK with it. Depends if they’re OK with _me_. I did meet this guy Boromir yesterday, though. Wouldn’t mind getting to know him a bit better.”

Éomer laughed.

“No, I don’t mind.”

~*~

That day was Freshers’ Fayre. After lunch, they all walked together to the Courtyard in the centre of campus. Aragorn walked hand-in-hand with Éomer, and Frodo walked hand-in-hand with Sam. The Courtyard was a large, grassy area, bisected by three paths, which were bordered by flowers and shrubs. In the centre, where the paths met, was a large fountain, also surrounded by flowers. The sun was shining that day, and the campus looked beautiful. Aragorn felt, in the moment, completely sure that ze had made the right choice.

Marquees had been set up along the paths in the Courtyard, from which people were promoting societies and sports clubs, and volunteering and employment opportunities. Aragorn, Éomer and Éowyn immediately signed up to the equestrian society, before Éowyn and Tauriel scurried off to find out more about Femsoc. Aragorn signed up to Queersoc next, and noticed with pleasure that Faramir’s name was already on the list, as well as that of one of his friends from school, Halbarad.

Just then, Aragorn caught sight of Arwen standing at a stall nearby, chatting with Elrond and an elderly man with a long grey beard and a staff. Ze walked over to say hello. Elrond saw hir first.

“Aragorn!” he cried, stepping forward to give hir a hug, “How are you settling in so far?”

“Really great, thanks,” ze replied, pulling away, “I’m pretty sure I’m going to love it here.”

“Are you aware of Gandalf’s society?” Elrond asked hir, gesturing to the stall, “I think it would be right up your street,”

“It’s called the Fellowship,” the old man – Gandalf – put in, “it’s a safe and supportive environment for people to come and express themselves creatively.”

“Sure,” said Aragorn, “I’ll sign up.” Ze looked to Frodo and Sam, who shrugged and nodded, and signed up after hir. At that moment a familiar voice called out across the Courtyard:

“Aragorn!”

Aragorn turned to see Boromir striding across the grass towards him, with Éomer at his side. He smiled and waved back.

“What society’s this?” Boromir asked as he approached the stall.

“It’s a creative expression group,” Aragorn told him. Boromir looked thoughtful.

“What’s troubling you?” Gandalf asked.

“What sort of creative expression?” Boromir asked in return. “I mean, I write speeches sometimes, is that…?”

“Of course,” said Gandalf, “however you like to get your thoughts out, you are welcome.”

As Boromir put his name down, Aragorn looked at Éomer, who shook his head.

“Oh, no,” he said, “I’m not really the artistic sort.”

~*~

The flat was crowded that evening, as everyone seemed to have brought friends back with them. Tauriel had invited Legolas, a tall blonde boy she knew from school; Frodo and Sam had brought Rosie Cotton, one of their childhood friends; Éomer and Éowyn had invited their cousin Théodred; and Aragorn had invited Arwen, Boromir and Faramir.

They turned all the pillows from the sofa onto the floor and brought in duvets and pillows from their rooms, and pushed the sofa itself against the wall, until they eventually had enough room for everyone to have a seat. They ordered pizza again.

Éomer and Tauriel noted with amusement – and several choice facial expressions – that Aragorn was very much the centre of attention, though ze was clearly oblivious hirself. Throughout the evening, whenever a space close to hir was vacated, it would be almost immediately filled by Legolas, Théodred or Boromir. Neither Éomer nor Arwen minded their seats being taken in such a manner.

Arwen left early, having agreed to go out for drinks with her own flatmates. By the time she left, Legolas, Théodred and Boromir had all squeezed themselves onto the sofa around Aragorn – no mean feat for four tall young men.

Éomer was exhausted, having agreed to join a very energetic and almost totally lawless rugby game that afternoon, so he decided to go to bed. With a sly smirk on his face, he walked over to Aragorn, placed his hands on hir thighs, and leaned over hir to press their lips together. Aragorn inhaled sharply in surprise, but returned the kiss enthusiastically, leaning forward to make it last longer as Éomer pulled away. Boromir, Legolas and Théodred all suddenly found themselves very interested in the furniture, or the floor, or the ceiling, their expressions carefully neutral.

“I’m going to sleep,” Éomer said, gently push Aragorn back onto the sofa, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sleep well,” Aragorn said, smiling after Éomer as he left the room.

Ze spent the rest of the evening laughing and playing card games with Boromir, Faramir, Tauriel, Legolas, Théodred, Éowyn, Frodo, Sam and Rosie. A little while after Éomer had left, Tauriel had produced a hoard of alcohol from under her bed, and the nine of them managed to consume a fair amount of it. Gradually the card games morphed into drinking games.

“Have you guys heard of the Prancing Pony?” Boromir asked at about eleven o’clock, his speech slurring a little. When the rest of the shook their heads, he continued, “It’s a club in town, like a gay club.”

“That sounds like the perfect place to spend the rest of the night,” said Tauriel, getting unsteadily to her feet and placing handfuls of empty bottles in the sink.

“You guys go,” said Faramir, “I’m done for tonight. I’ll go home when you leave.”

“And me,” said Rosie. Frodo and Sam nodded in agreement.

“Aragorn?” Legolas asked. Aragon shook hir head.

“No, no, I’m OK, you guys go. Have a good time.”

Boromir pouted.

“Oh, come on!” he said. “It’ll be so much fun!”

“Ze said no, Boromir,” said Théodred.

Boromir sighed and got to his feet, Legolas latching on and using his momentum to set himself upright. Théodred followed suit, then turned to Aragorn.

“What do you think, mate?” he asked. “Just one kiss before I go?”

Aragorn smiled and obliged, wrapping hir arms around Théoden’s neck and pulling their bodies together. After a few seconds, ze pulled back.

“Now, go,” ze said. “You don’t want to keep the others waiting.”

“Don’t we all get kisses?” Boromir asked.

“I’d rather we didn’t,” Tauriel called impatiently from the hallway.

Aragorn laughed, throwing one arm around Legolas’ shoulders and the other around Boromir’s. Ze kissed each of them once, before pushing them out into the hallway.

“Go!” ze said. “Or Tauriel will start breaking things.”

“You think that’s a joke,” she replied over her shoulder as she opened the door. The three of them filed out, with Faramir and Rosie behind.

Aragorn sighed. He could hear Frodo and Sam clearing up in the living room. Ze knocked gently on Éomer’s door. When there was no answer, ze tried opening it. It was unlocked, and ze smiled at the fact the he clearly trusted them all already. Aragorn slipped into Éomer’s room and shucked off his shirt and trousers. Éomer mumbled in confusion and half woke as ze sidled in next to him.

“It’s me,” ze whispered into his lips. He laughed quietly.

“You reek of alcohol,” he said, closing the distance between them. He licked over Aragorn’s lips, lifting the taste of cider from them. They kissed slowly and lazily for a while, before Éomer buried his head in Aragorn’s shoulder and they fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTICE: This fic is now E rated
> 
> Also I realise that so far there's just a lot of Aragorn getting frisky with people but there is an actual plot I promise. It should all get going in the next chapter.

On Monday, classes began.

Aragorn’s alarm began screaming at eight o’clock. Groaning, ze reached over Boromir’s waking form to turn it off. Then ze let her arm flop back down over Boromir’s side.

“Morning,” Boromir mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. Aragorn groaned again and rolled onto hir back to stretch.

“I’m pretty sure this time still counts as night,” ze moaned.

With a sigh, Boromir heaved himself from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Aragorn sat up and held hir head in hir hands, trying to dispel the fogginess left over from the night before.

He’d gone to the Prancing Pony with Arwen, but she’d left early so that she’d be awake to get some training in before class the next day. Aragorn had decided to stay a while longer, and it hadn’t been long before ze’d bumped into Boromir. They’d staggered back to campus together in the early hours of the morning, and instead of leaving Aragorn to go back to his own flat, Boromir had joined hir in hirs instead.

Aragorn wandered sleepily through to the kitchen, without bothering to put anything on over hir boxers. Ze poured hirself a bowl of cereal and settled hirself down cross-legged on the sofa to eat.

Tauriel wandered in, already dressed and made up.

“For goodness’ sake put some clothes on,” she said, as she pulled two slices of bread out of the fridge. “Everyone else might wanna see you naked, but I don’t.”

“I’m not actually naked,” ze pointed out, earning a snort from Tauriel. Just then, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” said Tauriel. “Seeing as you’re not decent.”

Two seconds later she returned with Arwen, who’d tied her hair back into a tight bun. Several strands had fallen free during her training. At the sight of hir girlfriend, Aragorn’s face split into the biggest grin he could muster with a mouthful of cereal.

“How’d your training go, beautiful?” ze asked as she sat down next to hir and nicked a spoonful of cereal.

“Pretty good,” she said. “I just thought I’d pop by, as I’ve got about twenty minutes before class starts. Everyone else seems to be getting a lot more of you than I am lately.”

“More than we want,” put in Tauriel, who had seated herself at the dining table with her toast, gesturing with her toast to Aragorn’s lack of clothes.

“It’s OK,” Aragorn said, rinsing out his finished bowl of cereal and propping it up on the draining board, “I’m going to get dressed right now.”

They passed Boromir in the hallway, who greeted Arwen with a wink. As soon as hir bedroom door had closed behind them, Aragorn pulled Arwen into hir arms.

“Goodness me,” said Arwen with amusement, “Boromir hasn’t even left and already you’re coming on to me.”

“Firstly,” said Aragorn, kissing Arwen’s lips, “Boromir and I didn’t have sex. Secondly, I’ve missed you.”

Arwen smiled and kissed hir back.

“I know,” she said. “But you also have a horse to turn out and a lecture to get to. You don’t want to be late on your first day. I haven’t got anything on tonight; I’ll come back this evening. Now get dressed.”

~*~

Aragorn found hirself a seat in the front row of the small lecture theatre. Elrond greeted hir with a smile and a wave, before returning to sorting his notes. When about forty people had filed in and taken their seats, he closed the door and began.

“Good morning,” he said, “and welcome to Arda University. My name is Elrond, and I am the head Classics lecturer at the university. For your first year, I will be teaching most of your lectures. For the few of you who are taking Ancient History as well, your main lecturer will be Galadriel, who you’ll meet later today.”

He began to pace backwards and forwards along the front of the theatre.

“Now, most universities treat Classics and Ancient History as very similar things, but here at Arda we do it a little differently. Classics, as you would expect, covers the Greek and Roman civilisations, with a very small amount about closely linked civilisations such as the Egyptians, the Libyans and the Persians. In Ancient History, though, those of you who are studying it will cover those civilisations in more detail, as well as looking at ancient peoples of East Asia, southern Africa, South America and more, though to a certain extent the areas you cover will be dictated by the modules you choose.

“Classics-only students will learn Greek and Latin in the first year, and have the choice to continue one or both in the second and third years, while joint honours students will be able to choose as many as they like from Greek, Latin, Ancient Egyptian, Old Norse, Old Persian and Sanskrit, to name a few. We recommend you take an absolute maximum of four languages in your first year, with the expectation that you will drop at least one before you continue into your second and third years. You have two weeks to decide and confirm your non-compulsory modules.”

He returned to the lectern and flicked through his notes.

“So, in today’s lecture we will begin to look at the religions and religious practices of Ancient Rome and Greece, where they overlapped and where they differed.”

He lowered the lights and brought a slide up on the screen at the front of the theatre.

“We’ll start with the god known to the Greeks as Zeus, and to the Romans as Jupiter…”

~*~

Éomer was waiting for Aragorn outside the lecture theatre. Ze took his hand and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Ze heard a couple of disapproving mutters from some of the other students walking past, and sighed.

“And here was I thinking everyone around here would be accepting as our group.”

Éomer smiled sadly.

“Unfortunately not. You have a good time with Boromir last night?”

“I did. Regretted it this morning though. I felt practically concussed.”

“When’s your next lecture?” Éomer asked, “Have you got time to come and hang out for a bit?”

“Yeah, I’ve got like two hours.”

Ze followed him out into the Courtyard, to where a small group of people was sitting, enjoying the sun. Éowyn and Faramir were there, as well as two people ze didn’t recognise.

“Here, Aragorn, this is Merry, he’s on Éowyn’s course, and his friend and flatmate Pippin, who’s doing English Lit with Faramir.”

“Hey,” said Aragorn, sitting down next to Éomer.

“We were just talking about this new club in town,” said the boy Éomer had introduced as Pippin. “It’s called Isengard. Apparently it’s only pretty recently opened, and it’s not for lightweights.”

“Not for me, then, probably,” said Aragorn with a laugh.

“I’d still like to go, just once, though,” said Merry. “Just to see if it’s really like people say.”

‘I went there Saturday,” said a voice behind them, “and I can tell you that it is.”

Aragorn turned, and leaped to hir feet when ze realised who it was.

“Halbarad!” ze cried. “How have you been?”

“Hey, Ari,” said Halbarad, pulling Aragorn into a bear hug and planting a kiss on hir cheek. “I’ve been great, thanks. I saw Arwen this morning, she told me you’ve been pulling the guys like nobody’s business.”

“Well,” said Aragorn sheepishly, “maybe not quite like nobody’s business…”

“You fiend, you,” Halbarad laughed as he took a seat on Aragorn’s other side, “I don’t suppose that explains Boromir’s whereabouts last night by any chance, does it?”

“It might do,” ze said. “You know Boromir?”

“Yeah sure. He and Faramir here are my flatmates.”

Faramir nodded, before launching into introductions.

“Halbarad, this is Pippin, who’s on my course, and his friend Merry, and Aragorn’s flatmates Éomer and Éowyn.”

“Morning, guys,” said Halbarad. “I’d avoid Isengard if I were you. They’ve got some dodgy stuff going on there, and they’re not massively accepting, if you know what I mean.”

His eyes flicked between Aragorn, Faramir and Éowyn.

“I’d stick to the Prancing Pony, to be honest. It’s a good club, and a lot safer.”

They sat there chatting for a while and ate lunch, until eventually Aragorn got to hir feet.

“My lecture starts in a minute, I better go,” ze leaned down to give Éomer a quick kiss.

“Eh, I’ve got one starting in about fifteen, I’ll come with you.” said Halbarad, grabbing his bag.

~*~

By the time Aragorn’s second lecture had finished, the others had cleared from the Courtyard, so ze made hir way to the stables. Ze brought Roheryn in from the field and tacked him up. Ze spent thirty minutes working him in the outdoor arena, practising some simple dressage manoeuvres and popping over some low jumps. Then Halbarad turned up on Nahar and they had gone on a short hack together around one of the shorter circuits.

“We should give that cross country course a go this weekend,” Halbarad said as they approached the yard, nodding to one of the permanent obstacles set up across the field. Aragorn hummed indecisively.

“It’s been a good while since I’ve done any eventing,” ze said. Halbarad laughed and reached over to give Aragorn a good-natured slap on the shoulder.

“Aw, Ari,” he said, “lost your nerve?”

Aragorn returned to the yard while Halbarad went to work Nahar in the arena. Ze removed Roheryn’s tack and groomed him, then turned him back out into the field, as there were a good few hours of daylight left. Then ze went back to the flat.

Ze’d barely put hir bag down when there came a knock at hir door. Ze opened it to Frodo.

“Hey, Aragorn, Sam and I were thinking of heading over to Fellowship this afternoon. Gandalf said any day after three, so…”

“Yeah, OK,” ze said, “Give me a second to get some stuff together.”

They walked to the studio block together and climbed to the first floor. They found Gandalf in a large studio, reading a huge book on art history. Legolas was already there, with an easel set up before him, as well as a lanky red-haired boy, who was working on an anvil next to a small fire, bending strips of metal.

“Is that even allowed in here?” Aragorn asked as ze dumped hir bag in a corner. Gandalf smiled sheepishly.

“Well… I won’t tell if you don’t,” he said.

“This is Gimli,” Legolas introduced them, “Gimli, this is Frodo, Sam and Aragorn.”

Just then Aragorn’s phone buzzed in hir pocket. Ze quickly excused hirself and answered it in the hallway. A few minutes later ze returned with a grin on hir face.

“I got the job,” ze said to the room in general.

“What job’s this?” asked Legolas over Frodo and Sam’s congratulations.

“In the university library,” ze said, “I applied at the Freshers’ Fayre. I start tomorrow.”

They worked in silence for a while, until Gimli stood away from his anvil and wiped his brow with the back of his gloved hand.

“Have you heard about the stuff going down at Isengard?” he asked in a thick Scottish accent. When everyone looked at him questioningly, he continued: “Apparently there was a guy got beaten up there the other day for making a pass at another guy. That’s what they’re saying, at any rate.”

“I heard a lesbian couple got harassed in there a few nights ago. Some of the comments the guys were throwing at them were enough to make you sick. I can’t believe the management stands for it. Security did nothing either, apparently.”

Aragorn nodded.

“I’ve heard nothing good about that place. It’s only been open a few weeks and already it’s causing trouble. Best steer clear, I think.”

~*~

No one in the flat saw anything of Aragorn or Arwen after the latter had turned up just as they were putting away their dinner plates. As soon as she arrived, Aragorn whisked her off to hir room and locked the door.

“I’ve missed you so much these last few days,” ze said, pressing kissed over her throat. She pulled hir closer to her.

“How do you think I’ve felt, all alone, while you’ve always had someone else to hold you while you sleep?” she said, smirking.

“I’ll make it up to you.” Ze lifted Arwen into hir arms and carried her over to hir bed. “Right now.”

They fell onto the bed together, with Aragorn straddling Arwen’s hips. They pulled apart for a moment to remove their shirts, before Aragorn’s mouth was back on Arwen’s, kissing with passion and urgency. Hir hands began to fumble with the fastening on her jeans. Ze pulled her jeans and knickers down in one go, and Arwen extracted her legs. Aragorn kissed her knee, then kissed a trail up her thigh, over her belly, her breasts, her collarbone and her throat until at last ze returned to her mouth.

Arwen gasped and arched her back as Aragorn’s fingers gently rubbed her entrance and hir teeth worried her earlobe. Her hips bucked against hir and she wrapped her fingers in hir hair.

“I love you,” she breathed into hir ear. “I love you.”

Aragorn turned hir head and rested hir brow on hers. The pendant she had given hir dangled against her collarbone. Ze brought their mouths together briefly.

“I love you, too,” ze whispered back.

Arwen dropped her hands to the button of Aragorn’s jeans. Ze quickly pulled them off, and hir boxers, and kicked them onto the floor. Ze reached under hir bed into the box of condoms ze kept there and carefully unpackaged one. Ze sat back on hir feet as ze rolled the latex over hir cock.

As soon as ze was done, Arwen reached up and pulled hir mouth down to hers. Ze slowly guided his cock into her. She moaned, bucking her hips against hir. Ze thrust into her, gradually building up a rhythm. They kissed messily, breaking apart every now and then to nibble at the other’s skin. Aragorn latched onto Arwen’s shoulder and sucked until it bruised and she was writhing beneath hir.

Ze could feel hir climax building, the pool of heat swelling in hir lower stomach. Hir thrusts became harder and less rhythmic. Ze lowered hir hand to Arwen’s groin and began to finger her clitoris, while hir lips and tongue caressed her jaw, her throat and her nipples.

At last Arwen climaxed, moaning through clenched teeth, and she tightened around Aragorn’s cock, causing hir to come just a few seconds later.

Breathing heavily, ze pulled out, removed the condom, tied it off and threw it into the bin. Ze collapsed onto the bed next to Arwen and drew her into hir arms, kissing her and burying hir face in her hair.

“You don’t really mind, do you?” ze asked, as they were drifting off to sleep. “That sometimes I spend the night with others?”

Arwen propped herself up on one elbow and brushed Aragorn’s hair out of hir face. She bent down and gently kissed hir temple.

“I was joking,” she said. “We’ve been together nearly three years, Aragorn, we’ve _known_ each other almost our whole lives. I’ve known for ages that this is who you are, I knew when I agreed to date you, I was fine with it then and I’m fine with it now.

“Besides,” she added with a smirk, “I’m far too busy to sleep with you _every_ night, so I’m glad you’ve got some other people to keep you occupied.”

She kissed him again, on the lips this time and slowly, then rested her head against his chest until they fell asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for transphobia
> 
> Aragorn has a heavy night out, and things go from bad to worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, I've had a pretty busy couple of weeks.

The next evening, after Aragorn had finished work, ze, Arwen, Boromir, Éomer and Tauriel went to the Prancing Pony together. As they walked through town, Tauriel and Arwen chatted amicably together while Aragorn walked between Boromir and Éomer, one hand shoved in either’s back pocket. Boromir was returning the gesture, while Éomer had his arm resting loosely on Aragorn’s shoulders.

 

They had to walk past Isengard to get to the Prancing Pony. There was a large group of girls and boys gathered outside smoking cigarettes and joints. A still lit cigarette came flying past, missing them by inches.

 

“You’re sick, acting like that in public!” someone yelled. Aragorn stiffened.

 

“If you’re not careful I’ll put your dickfest in Hell where it belongs!” Another shout followed them down the road.

 

“Ignore them,” Éomer said, squeezing Aragorn’s shoulder. “They’re just words.”

 

Aragorn nodded, but ze was upset. So far, university had been free of the taunting and hatred ze’d received at school, and ze’d hoped, perhaps naively, that it might continue that way. The jerks outside Isengard had been a harsh reminder that it might just follow hir wherever ze went.

 

As soon as they reached the Prancing Pony, Aragorn bought hirself a cider. Ze spent the night drinking and dancing with Arwen, Boromir and Éomer in turn. The last thing ze remembered was downing a line of tequila shots while a group of people ze vaguely recognised from uni cheered hir on.

 

~*~

 

The next morning, Aragorn was hanging. Badly. Ze’d barely opened hir eyes and registered that Éomer and Boromir were crowded into hir bed with hir before ze had to scramble out of their tangled limbs and stagger to the bathroom. Ze wondered briefly why ze’d done it, but then ze remembered the people outside Isengard, and ze collapsed against the wall with hir head in hir hands.

 

A few moments later ze felt strong arms around hir, and fell gratefully against Éomer’s comforting chest. He stroked hir hair, and ze curled herself tightly into a ball at his side, hir fingers clenched in his shirt.

 

Ze didn’t know how long they stayed there, but too soon Éomer pulled hir to hir feet. Hir whole body felt bruised.

 

“What happened last night?” ze asked groggily.

 

“I’ll explain,” Éomer said, “just as soon as we’ve got something in your stomach. Do you feel well enough to eat?”

 

Aragorn hesitated, then nodded uncertainly.

 

“You were pretty bad,” said Éomer as he put four slices of bread into the toaster. “But you wouldn’t let us bring you back. You insisted on staying and dancing. You almost got into fights more than once. You ended up falling off your chair.”

 

“That’ll explain the stiffness,” Aragorn said, stretching hir neck. Éomer nodded.

 

“Eventually we decided enough was enough, and Boromir and I had to practically carry you back.”

 

Aragorn groaned and rubbed hir face.

 

“And Arwen?”

 

“Arwen came back with us as far as the front door then went back to her own flat. Once you stopped clinging to her enough that she could get away.”

 

Aragorn pillowed hir head on his arms on the table.

 

“I’m sorry,” ze said, “I’m so sorry.”

 

Éomer slid into the seat next to hir and put an arm around hir shoulders.

 

“It’s okay. I know it’s hard. We shouldn’t have to put up with it. But you can’t let them get to you. They’ll make your life hell, and then they’ve won. You have so many people who love you, Aragorn. Focus on them.”

 

Aragorn nodded resignedly as the toaster popped. Éomer got up to get it just as Boromir wondered in. He immediately plonked himself into Éomer’s abandoned seat. Éomer put another two slices of toast in the toaster.

 

Boromir reached out and gently stroked Aragorn’s hair.

 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked. Aragorn sat up slowly.

 

“I’ve been better.”

 

Boromir pulled Aragorn’s phone out of his pocket.

 

“Here,” he said. “I took it off you last night because I was worried you’d do something stupid. You should probably let Arwen know you’re alright.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Ze quickly sent a text to Arwen reassuring her and apologising for hir behaviour. Éomer sat down at the table with three plates of buttered toast and three glasses of orange juice. They ate in silence.

 

Just as they were finishing, Tauriel came in through the front door in a tracksuit and breathing heavily.

 

“Where’ve you been?” asked Boromir, gulping down the last of his orange juice.

 

“Out for a run,” she replied, “like I do every morning, as you’d know if you ever dragged yourselves out of bed a little earlier.”

 

She filled a glass of water from the tap and turned to Aragorn.

 

“You look terrible.”

 

“Thank you,” ze said, “I feel it.”

 

“And you have sick on your shirt.”

 

Aragorn looked down and swore. Éomer pulled hir out of hir seat and began to direct hir towards hir bathroom.

 

“OK, I think it’s about time you cleaned yourself up.”

 

He closed Aragorn’s bedroom door behind them.

 

“Right, strip,” he said, beginning to take off his own clothes. Aragorn did as ze was told and allowed Éomer to push hir into the shower. It was a tight squeeze, but Éomer managed to get the curtain closed behind him.

 

“You’re gunna have to get your shit together, Aragorn, I’m not doing all this for you. We both have lectures starting in like twenty minutes.”

 

At that moment, Boromir poked his head round the door.

 

“Don’t rush,” he said. “I’ll do your horses; I’ve got hours.”

 

So Aragorn washed hir body while Éomer shampooed and conditioned hir hair, then he thrust hir out of the shower.

 

“Get dry,” he said, pouring shampoo into his hand to wash his own hair. A few minutes later, he stepped out and took the towel from Aragorn and began to dry himself.

 

Aragorn left the bathroom to get dressed, noticing as he did so that Boromir had left his boxers from the day before on the floor and taken a clean pair of Aragorn’s from the drawer. With a sigh, ze threw them into the laundry basket. Éomer emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later and also took a pair of Aragorn’s boxers from the shorts.

 

“Your room is literally just across the corridor,” ze pointed out.

 

“I know,” Éomer said, pulling the boxers on. “You’re welcome to help yourself to my underwear drawer any time you wish.”

 

Once they were both dressed, Éomer pulled Aragorn into his arms.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked. Aragorn nodded, resting hir forehead against Éomer’s and closing hir eyes. They stood like that for a while, Éomer slowly rubbing Aragorn’s back.

 

“Do you want me to come with you to your lecture theatre?” Éomer said at last. Aragorn shook hir head.

 

“No. I’ll be alright.” Ze pulled away and began packing hir things into hir bag.

 

“OK,” said Éomer, leaning down to give hir a quick kiss on the cheek, “I’ll see you at the Equestrian society meet later.”

 

“Yeah, bye. And thank you for looking after me.”

 

Éomer patted hir on the shoulder.

 

“No worries.”

 

Aragorn reached the lecture just as the last few people were filing in. Elrond smiled at hir as ze passed him, but looked concerned. He shut the door and walked over to the podium as everyone settled into their seats.

 

Just before Elrond began to speak, a ball of paper smacked into the back of Aragorn's head. Ze flinched, but didn't turn to see who had thrown it.

 

"OK, let's stop acting like children, shall we?" said Elrond, directing a glare towards the back of the theatre.

 

"Tell that to pretty boy up front," came the reply, "With his special pronouns and his half-dozen boyfriends."

 

Aragorn's jaw twitched.

 

“That is _enough_ ,” said Elrond sternly. “What’s your name?”

 

“Jonathan,” the boy said, “and my pronouns are snowflake, snowflakes, snowflakeself.”

 

“Well, Jonathan, you can stop harassing and deliberately misgendering other students or you can remove yourself from my classroom. The university does not tolerate this kind of behaviour.”

 

“And yet it tolerates freaks like him?”

 

Aragorn stood up abruptly, grabbing hir notebook and hir bag, and stormed out of the classroom. Ze heard Elrond calling after hir, but ze didn’t turn back or slow.

 

Elrond found hir almost an hour later sitting in Roheryn’s empty stable with hir knees drawn up to hir chest and hir head resting on them. He threw the sandwich he’d bought across to hir from the doorway.

 

“I thought you might be hungry,” he said.

 

“Not really,” said Aragorn, picking the sandwich up and inspecting it. Ham and cheese. Hir favourite.

 

“You’re not going to make anything better by sulking about it,” Elrond said. “Or, indeed, by getting raging drunk.”

 

Aragorn looked up in surprise.

 

“I bumped into Éomer while I was looking for you,” Elrond explained.

 

“I don’t want to make anything better. I shouldn’t <i>have</i> to make anything better. It should just <i>be</i> better.”

 

“I know, I know, but unfortunately it’s not.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Your mum would like to hear from you. Maybe chatting to her will make you feel better.”

 

Aragorn nodded. At last ze pulled hirself off the ground, brushed the straw from hir trousers and went back to the flat. Ze opened up hir laptop and logged into Skype. Gilraen was online, so ze called.

 

They spoke for an hour or so, and Aragorn ate hir sandwich, but eventually ze had to leave to get ready for the equestrian society meet. Ze changed into hir jodhpurs and boots and headed out to the stables. There were quite a few people already there, and ze stopped in at Arwen’s, Boromir’s and Théodred’s stables to give them each a quick kiss as ze passed.

 

Halbarad arrived just after hir. He leaned into his tack box outside the stable opposite Aragorn’s and pulled out a sports bra, then disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared five minutes later, binder in hand.

 

“I wish I never had to take this thing off,” he said as he shoved it into the tack box.

 

“On the bright side, it can’t be long now until you don’t have to wear it at all,” said Aragorn.

 

“No, they reckon it should be around Christmas time,” Halbarad acknowledged. “There is that.”

 

“You still haven’t got an exact date?”

 

“No, but I’m working my way up the waiting list. I’ve been told I’ll have a date by the end of the month.”

 

Aragorn, Halbarad and Éomer went with a group of others to the start of the cross-country course, while the rest of the society split between show jumping and dressage practice. Halbarad, ever keen to prove himself, set off first, with Aragorn following five minutes later. The jumps were slightly bigger than ze was used to, but Roheryn had always been a strong jumper, and ze was able to take hir time, as there was no competition.

 

When ze arrived back at the start around twenty minutes later, ze found Halbarad trotting in circles to gradually cool his horse down. Ze did the same a few metres away.

 

“How did you get on?” Halbarad called over.

 

“Pretty good, considering,” ze said. “Maybe I’ll time it next time.”

 

“You mean you didn’t?” Halbarad said, feigning shock. “But how will you know what you need to beat next time?”

 

Aragorn rolled hir eyes.

 

“To be honest, I was kinda focusing on just making it round in one piece,” ze said. Halbarad tutted.

 

After about twenty minutes, and the arrival of several other members of the group, Éomer arrived at a trot, covered in dust and grass stains. Aragorn halted Roheryn as Éomer approached.

 

“Are you okay?” ze asked.

 

“Yeah,” he said, “I just messed up on the jump coming out of the lake. I didn’t get wet, at least.”

 

They walked back to the stables and began to untack their horses.

 

“Are you guys going to the LGBT+ society meet at the Prancing Pony this evening?” Faramir asked as he returned his saddle to the tack room.

 

“I am,” said Aragorn, and Éowyn and Halbarad added their assent.

 

“I’ll see you there then,” Faramir said. “Have a good afternoon, all of you.”

 

Once they’d finished sorting their horses, Aragorn and Halbarad wandered into town to get coffee and catch up, as they hadn’t had a proper chat since early in the summer. They sat at one of the tables outside on the pavement, as the weather was nice, their legs tangled under the table.

 

Halbarad had spent most of the summer in Germany, staying with his paternal grandparents and working in their small local bakery as well as attending a series of summer theology and philosophy lectures run by a nearby church. Aragorn could see it had done him good: he seemed so much more confident and inspired than he had before he left.

 

Aragorn had gone to Germany with him once, when they were still at school. Ze remembered his Oma and Opa fondly, and their fantastic pastries. Ze was still hoping to be able to visit them again.

 

“They’d love to see you,” said Halbarad, when ze voiced hir feelings. “Every time they see me it’s, ‘where’s your lovely friend Aragorn?’, ‘how is Aragorn?’, ‘why haven’t you brought Aragorn with you?’. I’m planning to go over there for New Year, maybe you can come then?”

 

“I’ll have to check with Mum,” ze said. “But hopefully.”

 

They finished their coffee and headed back to campus, kissing each other goodbye when they reached the halls. Aragorn checked hir phone as ze climbed the steps to hir flat. Ze had a text from Éomer:

 

_You’ve got post. xx_

 

Sure enough, when ze reached the flat, there was a small envelope outside hir door, with hir name and address typed on a scrap of paper and taped to the front. Ze tore it open and pulled out the paper inside. The message was also typed:

 

_You are a Gross Freak. End your Disgusting Behaviour now or you will find yourself at odds with the White Hand, Pervert._

 

“Éomer,” ze called, not looking away from the paper. “Éomer!”

 

Ze knocked on his door.

 

“Calm down!” Éomer called from inside. “I’m coming.”

 

As soon as he opened the door, he knew something was wrong. Aragorn held out the letter to him. He sighed.

 

“It’s probably an empty threat,” he said, pulling Aragorn towards him and enveloping hir in a hug. “They’re just trying to scare you.”

 

“They’re succeeding,” said Aragorn, burying hir head in Éomer’s neck. Éomer held hir in silence for a few minutes, rubbing slow, comforting circles into hir back. At last he spoke.

 

“Look, I’m sure it’s nothing, but if it bothers you that much you can always take it to Elrond. He won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

Just then, Aragorn’s phone buzzed. It was from Boromir:

 

_Are you and/or Éomer and/or Éowyn free to come round? Faramir’s freaking out x_

 

In the end, all three of them went. Halbarad let them in, and they found Faramir hunched, shaking, on the sofa with tears on xyr cheeks, and Boromir next to xem with his arm round xyr shoulder. Boromir reached over to the arm of the sofa and picked up a piece of paper, which he held out to them. Aragorn took it.

Straightaway, ze knew it was from the same people. It was typed in the same way, attacking Faramir’s gender with the odd racist slur thrown in for good measure, and once again it mentioned the White Hand.

 

“What is this, the White Hand?” ze asked. The others all shrugged.

 

“I’ve never heard of it,” said Boromir.

 

“I feel like I’ve seen a white hand motif somewhere,” said Halbarad, perching on the arm of the sofa and looking thoughtful. “Somewhere recently. I can’t for the life of me remember where though.”

 

Aragorn looked again at the paper in hir hand, compared it with the note ze hirself had got, that ze’d brought with hir. After a moment, ze nodded.

 

“I’m taking these to Elrond,” ze said, and two seconds later the door thudded closed behind hir.


	5. Chapter 4

There was a small crowd in Elrond’s office when Aragorn arrived, as he had been sharing tea and cake with Galadriel, Gandalf and another lecturer Aragorn didn’t recognise, but whom Elrond introduced as John, an English literature and language lecturer. As soon as Aragorn had handed him the notes, Elrond had grown incensed.

“Who were these sent to?” he demanded.

“The first one was sent to me, and the second to Faramir,” Aragorn said.

“Faramir? Faramir Ecthelion?” said John, sitting up in his chair. Aragorn nodded. “Xe’s in my English lit class. Lovely kid. Why would anyone be sending xem hate and threats?”

Elrond sighed. 

“Transphobia, homophobia and racism, by the look of it,” he said. “You were right to bring these to me, Aragorn. Don’t worry, we’ll deal with this.”

Aragorn nodded and made to leave, but Elrond called hir back, offering hir the plate from his desk.

“Take some cake with you,” he said.

Aragorn headed back to Faramir, Boromir and Halbarad’s flat. Ze munched on the cake, which ze’d taken more out of courtesy than appetite, but found hir mouth was dry and the cake stuck in hir throat. Ze knocked on the flat door. Once again, it was Halbarad who opened it. 

“You can stay here tonight if you like,” he said, once they were all gathered in the living room again. “If it would make you feel safer.”

Aragorn looked to Éomer, who shrugged. 

“Well, personally, I never stopped feeling safe, so I think I’ll stay in my own room tonight if it’s all the same to you.” 

Aragorn hesitated, and Éomer reached out a hand to hir, which ze accepted.

“You’re welcome to join me, if you’re concerned,” he said. Aragorn smiled gratefully and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

“I’m happy to go back as well,” said Éowyn, who had seated emself on Faramir’s other side. “What about the society meet tonight at the Pony, are we still going?”

“I think we should,” said Boromir. “One of us, at least. The others should know about what’s going on. And if we skirt around town we can approach the Pony from the other side, so we can avoid Isengard and only add five or ten minutes to our journey.”

“I’m still going,” said Aragorn, and Éomer nodded in agreement. “Faramir?”

Faramir hesitated for a moment and looked at the people around xem. At last xe nodded.

“If you guys are all going, I will too.”

They watched a movie to pass the afternoon, and Boromir and Halbarad cooked a huge pot of pasta for dinner. At eight o’clock, they set out for the Prancing Pony. As Boromir had suggested, they took a detour to avoid Isengard, and reached the Prancing Pony without meeting any trouble.

Théodred was already there when they arrived at one of the smaller, quieter rooms upstairs in the Prancing Pony, and he jumped up to greet Aragorn and Boromir with a kiss and everyone else with an enthusiastic hug. Boromir blushed at his greeting, which made Aragorn smirk.

“I’m going to get myself another drink,” said Théodred as the others found seats for themselves among the other society members. “Any of you want anything?”

They all gave him their orders, and introduced themselves to the rest of the group while they waited for their drinks. A few minutes later, Théodred returned with a tray in each hand.

“Before we get started properly,” said Boromir, as everyone grabbed their drinks, “there’s something we want to mention. This afternoon two of us - Aragorn, here, and my sibling Faramir - received anonymous notes. Threatening notes. We couldn’t bring them to show you, because we’ve already passed them on to a trusted member of staff to look into it, but it was pretty obvious they were a result of gender- and sexuality-based discrimination.”

Théodred, who had squeezed himself in next to Boromir, shot Aragorn an unreadable look. 

“Basically, just keep an eye out,” said Aragorn. “Obviously we want to know who’s doing this, and for them to stop. If any of you find anything out, or receive similar threats, the members of university staff who already know about this are the Classics lecturer Elrond Undòmiel, the Ancient History lecturer Galadriel Artanis, the fine art lecturer Gandalf Stormcrow, and the English lit and language lecturer John Tolkien. I know that I can trust all of them to support us in this.” 

“Do you have no idea who they’re from? None at all?” asked a second-year student on the far side of the group. 

“Both notes mentioned a White Hand,” said Éomer. “But that’s all we know.” 

“Thanks for letting us know,” said Corey, the society president. “We’ll all keep an eye out. Meanwhile, I don’t think I need to remind any of you to stay safe. OK, now. We were going to discuss a poster campaign…”

The evening passed quickly and amicably, and, once the group had finished discussing its poster campaign and student mentor scheme, the meeting migrated downstairs into the main area of the club.

Halbarad and Aragorn left together just before midnight. Like they had done earlier, they skirted the edge of town to avoid the kind of people who congregated near Isengard. As they approached the university, Halbarad suddenly stopped and grabbed Aragorn’s hand. Aragorn stopped and turned, worried.

“What is it?” ze asked.

Halbarad stepped towards hir, taking hir other hand in his and rubbing his thumbs over hir fingers. He spoke into hir chest. 

“Remember when we were kids, the summer after year nine, we went down to the boating lake to see the dawn on the longest day of the year, and stayed there until the sun set?”

Aragorn did remember. It had been around the time when hir mother had finally started remembering hir pronouns more often than she forgot them, and she’d let him go out in public wearing eyeliner for the first time, though ze’d later decided make-up wasn’t for hir. Halbarad had slept over at hir house, and at about half four they’d walked together to the park at the end of the road, and sat on one of the jetties by the lake, dangling their toes in the water as the sun began to rise above the trees. They’d spent the day playing games, chasing each other round the woods, eating the food Gilraen had packed the evening before for them to take with them, and lying on the grass enjoying each other’s company. And they’d kissed.

It had been Halbarad’s first kiss, Aragorn knew, and though ze’d kissed Arwen before then, it had been the the first time ze’d kissed a boy. Ze knew, also, that at that point ze had been the only person who had known Halbarad was a boy. The only person who called him Halbarad, the only person who called him “he”. He’d come out to his parents the following winter, and found them so accepting he claimed his only regret was putting it off for so long. 

“You dropped your welly in the lake and made squelching noises for the rest of the day every time you took a step,” Aragorn said, wondering where this was going. Halbarad snorted.

“You’ve always accepted me for who I am, Aragorn. But what if … what if no one else does? What if I never find anyone else I can have a day like that with?”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to make do with me,” ze said, taking hir hand from Halbarad’s and stroking his cheek. 

Halbarad feigned a grimace, though his eyes were hopeful.

“Forever?” he asked. Aragorn shrugged.

“If you want,”

A relieved smile fought its way onto Halbarad’s face, and he looked down at the floor again. Aragorn tilted his chin back up and looked him in the eyes.

“Tell me you haven’t been sitting around worrying no one will ever love you,”

Halbarad’s eyes darted sideways sheepishly. Aragorn sighed and chuckled.

“I love you, Halbarad, and I always will,” ze said, leaning down to kiss his lips. Halbarad stepped closer, so that their bodies were flush together, and kissed back, wrapping his arms around Aragorn and holding on so tight Aragorn began to think he’d never let go. Ze let Halbarad decide when to break the kiss. Ze ran hir hand through his hair, then stepped aside and took his hand. 

“Come on,” ze said. “Let’s go home.”

Just as they were about to part ways outside the halls, Aragorn hesitated.

“Éomer’s not back yet,” ze said, feeling a twinge of nerves in hir belly as ze remembered the threats on the letters ze and Faramir had received. 

“My offer still stands,” said Halbarad, nodding towards his own flat. Aragorn nodded gratefully. 

As soon as they were inside Halbarad’s room, he tore off his shirt and binder. 

“You probably shouldn’t wear that all day, every day,” said Aragorn, concerned. “Especially such a long day as today.” 

“I know, I know,” said Halbarad, folding it and putting it into his drawer. “But it gets so hard to take it off some days.”

Halbarad changed into his pyjama trousers - he always slept topless, making the most of the opportunity to leave his torso free without getting into trouble - and Aragorn stripped down to hir boxers, before they clambered into bed together. They lay facing each other, Aragorn with hir arms wrapped around Halbarad, Halbarad with his face buried in Aragorn’s chest, their legs tangled together, until they both eventually drifted off to sleep.

~*~ 

Aragorn woke to Halbarad’s alarm clock, which ze turned off while Halbarad himself groaned and shifted lazily until he was curled as closely against Aragorn as he could manage. Although they had to get up to sort their horses out, ze let him stay there for a while, massaging gentle circles on his head with one hand. 

“We should get a move on,” ze said, once a few minutes had passed. Halbarad grunted into hir chest. Aragorn let a few more moments pass. 

“Hal.”

Halbarad moaned and pressed his face deeper into Aragorn’s chest, muffling the sound against hir skin. Aragorn chuckled, and Halbarad sighed at the feeling of hir chest vibrating beneath him.

“OK,” said Aragorn at last. “Time to get up.” 

Ze turned sideways, making Halbarad grimace as his pillow disappeared, and braced hir hands against Halbarad’s sides. Halbarad’s eyes flew open as the realisation hit him. 

“No, no!” he said, voice rising. “Don’t you dare! Don-” 

Aragorn shoved and Halbarad’s hands reached desperately for a grip on the bed or Aragorn hirself, but to no avail: he slid from the bed and landed with a thump on the floor, taking half the duvet with him.

“You’re such a bastard,” he said, giving the duvet a tug and wrapping it around himself, while Aragorn laughed.

“You can stay there on the floor all day if you want,” ze said. “But you’ll be the one explaining to Nahar why he didn’t get his breakfast this morning and why he didn’t get to go out into the nice green field with all his friends. 

Halbarad groaned again and swore.

“You make a good point,” he said, pulling himself to his feet with a great deal of effort. Nahar notoriously became very impatient if he didn’t get his food when he expected it, and verged on unhandleable if he was the last horse left in the stables when the rest were outside.

Aragorn got up from the bed and began to pull hir clothes on, taking a pair of boxers from Halbarad’s drawer, as Boromir and Éomer had done to hir the day before. Halbarad watched hir with a look of amusement. 

“You wanna take bets on how many pairs of boxers will still be in the drawers of the people they belong to among your lovers by the end of the year?” he said.

“I wouldn’t set your hopes too high,” Aragorn laughed. 

Once they had fed and turned out their horses, they went their separate ways to their lectures. Aragorn ran into Elrond on hir way.

“Ah, Aragorn, I hoped I’d bump into you,” said Elrond as he caught sight of hir. “I wondered if you might like to come for dinner today. Celebrian is cooking tonight.”

Aragorn’s mouth was already watering. Celebrian, Arwen’s mother, always cooked Indian recipes that had been handed down through her family for generations, and every single one of them was more delicious than anything else Aragorn had ever eaten.

“Of course,” ze said, “I’d love to.”

“I’ll see you there then,” said Elrond, slapping hir on the shoulder. “Have a good day!”

~*~

Arwen knocked on the door of Aragorn’s flat at about half past four that afternoon. Ze opened it, mildly surprised.

“Were you worried I’d forgotten the way?” ze teased.

“Of course not, I simply thought as we were going to the same place at the same time, we might as well go together.”

They walked most of the way in companionable silence, with the exception of a short conversation early on about what they’d been up to since they last spoke. The door to Arwen’s parents’ house opened before they’d even reached the step. Celebrian rushed out with her arms outstretched to greet them.

“Aragorn, my dear!” she cried, turning to hir after giving Arwen a quick, tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. She treated hir to the same. “How have you been? It feels like forever since you were here last! How is your mother?”

“At least let them step inside the door,” said Elrond with a smirk as he leaned against the door frame, although he too stepped outside to give each of them a hug, before steering everyone inside.

The Undòmiel’s house was not very large, but it was spacious enough. Celebrian led them through to the kitchen, where dinner was being kept warm. 

“I hear you have been having some trouble with people at uni who do not accept you,” she said as she laid out the plates. Aragorn nodded.

“You pay no attention to them,” she said, looking hir straight in the eye. “They are not lucky enough to know and love you like your friends do.”

Aragorn looked down at hir plate, embarrassed by the sincerity in Celebrian’s voice. Elrond leant over the table to ruffle hir hair, and Arwen lead her hand on hirs.

“Thank you,” ze muttered to the table.

When they had finished dinner, they drank tea and played a loud and jolly game of Trivial Pursuit, which Elrond won, to no one’s surprise. Aragorn helped Elrond with the dishes, and they discussed the essay Elrond would be setting Aragorn’s class the next week.

Aragorn walked Arwen home. They stopped outside her flat.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked hir. Aragorn smiled, and leaned down to gently kiss her lips.

“You know full well that I do,” ze said.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is approaching and everyone's stressing about exams and essays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long, my life's been kind of over-taken by The Musketeers. Enjoy!

The days passed quickly, deadlines and events flying from the distant future to the present and on into the past, and yet by the time the Christmas holidays were drawing near, Aragorn felt as though September had been years ago, rather than a mere ten weeks.

It had been two weeks before anything else was heard about the White Hand. Elrond had, as promised, initiated an anti-bullying campaign, which also encouraged people who knew anything to come forward. No one did. Then, just as everyone was beginning to think it had been nothing but a stupid prank, Halbarad had woken up to find a letter pushed under his door. Three days after that, so had Éowyn. Over the following weeks, Boromir, Legolas, Éomer and Théodred had also all received threats, as had numerous other members of the LGBT+ society.

When a letter had found its way to Arwen’s door in mid-November, Elrond had truly taken the war path. Every one of his lectures began with a speech about anti-bullying. He’d forced Arwen to move back in with him and Celebrian, and tried to persuade Aragorn to do the same, only relenting when Aragorn’s friends and flatmates had assured him they would keep hir safe. He had called the police. They’d said there was nothing they could do, that it was probably just a teenage prank.

By now December had begun, and the sky was threatening snow, although never quite yielding. Aragorn was walking back to halls from a lecture when ze spotted Théodred. Ze called out, and hurried over to him: Théodred had been becoming ever more distant over the past weeks, and Aragorn was becoming concerned.

“I’m kind of in a rush, Aragorn, can it wait?” he asked when ze reached him.

“No,” said Aragorn, laying a hand on Théodred’s arm. “I want to know what’s wrong. I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Maybe I have,” said Théodred. He looked at Aragorn for a second before pulling his arm free. “It doesn’t take a genius to work out what all the people who’ve received these threats have in common.”

“Right, they’re all LGBT.”

“No, Aragorn: you. They’re all associated with you. And I’m sorry if you thought differently, but you’re really not worth getting beaten up for.”

“Théodred, what have I done to upset anyone? Other, apparently, than be myself? Do you want me to stop being myself? Just head right back in the closet, crawl out of sight so society can continue on its cissexist way?”

“You do whatever the hell you like, just do it far away from me.”

Théodred strode away, leaving Aragorn looking after him, feeling as though ze’d been punched in the chest.

Éomer found hir there a few minutes later, beginning to shiver in the cold. Ze told him what Théodred had said.

“Well, that’s a load of monkeys’ balls,” said Éomer. “I was in the canteen the other day and I heard someone saying they’d had one. I went over to reassure them they weren’t alone, they said it was the first they’d heard about it. Everyone we know’s heard about it, because we told them, so clearly these people don’t know any of us, or, possibly, anyone who knows any of us. So it’s nothing to do with you. Never mind Théodred. He’ll come round.”

Éomer led Aragorn back to halls and wrapped a blanket around hir shoulders, as ze was still shivering. He dropped the large pile of textbooks onto his desk and opened his laptop.

“I have two assignments due next week, and one after the holidays,” he said wearily. “That’s on top of the one that was due last Friday.”

“You should try being a joint honours. I have Latin, Ancient Greek and Biblical Aramaic exams at the end of next week, and Old Norse and Sanskrit exams in the first few days back, plus an essay on Greek and Roman religion and one on Viking tactics due this side of the holidays, and one on Mayan construction techniques due in January.”

“To be fair, as far as the exams are concerned, you’re the one who insisted on taking more than the recommended number of languages,” Éomer pointed out, sticking post-it notes at various intervals down the page he was reading. “When are any of them ever going to be useful to you anyway?”

“To impress people at parties?”

Éomer laughed and rolled his eyes. A few seconds later, he felt Aragorn’s arms slip around his shoulders, and hir stubble brush against his neck.

“Shouldn’t you be studying for all these exams you have?” he asked, only half seriously. Aragorn simply hummed and started trailing light kisses over his shoulder. When his shirt wouldn’t let hir progress any further, ze turned back and nestled hir face in his neck.

“I haven’t slept with you - literally or figuratively - in nearly four weeks,” ze said so quietly that he might not have heard if hir mouth hadn’t been right next to his ear. “I miss you.”

“Have you been keeping count?” Éomer said, laughing, but when Aragorn didn’t reply, he spun his chair around to face hir. Immediately ze slid into his lap, so that ze was sitting astride him. He reached up and pushed hir hair out of hir face. “I’m sorry. I’ve had so much work. I’ll tell you what: let me get a bit of this essay done now, we’ll have dinner at six, and then I’m all yours for the rest of the night. How’s that sound?”

Aragorn grinned as if ze’d been promised the world, and kissed Éomer on the mouth. Ze stood up, spun Éomer’s chair back round so that he was facing his desk, and slid in behind him. Ze wrapped her arms around his waist and produced a set of Ancient Greek flashcards, which ze diligently set about studying. Éomer, chuckling, pecked hir on the cheek and turned back to his essay.

At twenty to six they got up to put some rice and meatballs on the hob. They chatted easily about anything that came to mind as they ate. Aragorn ate faster than Éomer, and sat watching him eat after ze’d finished, bobbing hir knee up and down under the table. Éomer looked up at hir, amused.

“Someone’s impatient,” he said. Aragorn sank down until hir chin was resting on hir arms, which were folded on the table. Ze looked up at Éomer through large puppy-dog eyes. Éomer snorted through a mouthful of rice. He reached over and rubbed Aragorn’s head. Aragorn leaned into the touch and made a sound not dissimilar to a purr.

“Jesus, Aragorn,” said Éomer, laughing properly now. “How touch-starved are you?”

“You’re not the only one who’s been busy lately,” Aragorn said sadly. “I haven’t had the chance to hang out with anyone in like a week.”

Éomer smoothed down Aragorn’s hair where it had been messed up by his hand.

“I’m nearly finished, then we can snuggle as long as you like,” he said. Aragorn tilted his head so that Éomer’s hand was trapped under his temple and closed his eyes contentedly. Éomer laughed again and finished his meal as best he could with just one hand. When he finally reclaimed his hand to take the plates to the sink, Aragorn looked up hopefully. Éomer smiled at hir.

“Your place or mine?” he asked.

Aragorn stood up and took Éomer’s hand, leading him into the hallway.

“Yours,” ze said. “My bed’s been overtaken by textbooks that I can’t be bothered to move.”

As soon as they’d closed Éomer’s door behind them, Aragorn pushed Éomer onto the bed and curled up against him. Éomer shifted back so that he was leaning against the wall, then wound his arms tightly around hir waist. Aragorn wrapped hir arms around his neck and buried hir face in his chest, breathing deeply and hanging on as if hir life depended on it.

Eventually one of Éomer’s legs began to go dead and he shifted, trying to get the blood flowing through it again. Aragorn stirred for the first time. Ze raised her head slowly, hir nose brushing Éomer’s cheek. Éomer turned towards hir, until their lips were mere millimetres apart. Wanting to make it last, Aragorn turned away slightly, raising hir hand to tangle in the hair at the base of Éomer’s skull, rubbing hir face against his like a cat.

“Thank you,” ze whispered in his ear.

“For what?” Éomer asked with a chuckle. “Spending time being cuddled by my lover instead of writing essays?”

He reached up to stroke Aragorn’s cheek.

“There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing and nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said so quietly it was barely more than a breath, “than this, here, with you.”

Aragorn’s restraint failed at that, and ze brought their lips together at last, forcefully, passionately and desperately. Ze shifted so that ze was sitting astride Éomer and ground into his lap, swallowing the groan he let out into hir mouth.

Éomer gripped Aragorn’s hips and broke the kiss, nuzzling against Aragorn’s neck and smiling at the little hums of pleasure he elicited. Aragorn’s hands bunched in the front of Éomer’s shirt.

“I love you,” Éomer muttered as he brushed his teeth around the shell of Aragorn’s ear. He felt hir grin in response and hir hands tightened on his shirt.

“I love you too.”

Ze whispered it like a secret that had been weighing on hir shoulders for a long time, as if the floodgates had been opened and at last all hir affection for him could come gushing through. Hir hands moved to hold Éomer either side of his face and ze kissed him hard, running hir tongue over his lips, his teeth, the roof of his mouth, pushing him against the wall with hir whole body as if ze was trying to touch every atom of him.

Éomer kissed back with a much passion as he received, moving his hands to grip Aragorn’s arse and pull hir closer still, each of them gasping for breath in the short, rushed gaps between kisses. At last Aragorn sat back on Éomer’s lap, and hir hands dropped to fiddle with the collar of his t-shirt. Ze looked up at him, suddenly slightly shy.

“Let me fuck you?” ze asked quietly. Éomer nodded without hesitation, and Aragorn slid quickly off his lap so that they could both undress. Aragorn was done first, and moved to help Éomer out of his shirt. They fell back on to the bed together, kissing and touching. Aragorn rolled Éomer over onto his front and began kissing over his shoulder blades and down his spine. When ze reached his waist, ze sat back and pulled his hips up so that he as resting on his elbows and knees.

Éomer fumbled under the bed for a moment, then reached back to pass Aragorn a condom and a tube of lube. Aragorn took them from him, suddenly feeling slightly nervous. Ze brushed hir hand over his lower back and buttocks.

“Have you ever done this before?” ze asked. Éomer nodded.

“Once,” he said. “When I was sixteen. You?”

Aragorn let out a breathy laugh.

“Same.”

“Halbarad?”

“Yeah.”

Éomer reached back to squeeze Aragorn’s hand. Ze leaned forward and kissed his knuckles. Then ze poured a generous helping of lube onto hir hand.

“You ready?” ze asked. Éomer nodded. Aragorn pressed one finger against his entrance and eased it in. Éomer gasped and arched beneath hir. Ze pushed hir finger all the way in and curled it, stretching out Éomer’s muscles. Eventually ze added a second finger, then a third, scissoring and twisting them as Éomer gradually opened up.

“That’s fine,” gasped Éomer, rocking back against Aragorn’s hand. “Please.”

Aragorn slowly withdrew hir fingers and coated hir dick with lube.

“OK?” ze said. Éomer nodded quickly.

“Please.”

Aragorn pushed in slowly, feeling Éomer’s muscles stretch around hir. Ze paused to make sure he was comfortable, and he pushed back against hir. Ze chuckled, taking the hint, and began to move. Éomer’s back arched as his head dropped forwards and he moaned with pleasure. Aragorn began to thrust faster, and Éomer’s moans became cries, which he muffled against the bed.

“Touch me,” he panted. “Aragorn. Please.”

Aragorn shifted slightly so that ze was better balanced, then reached around and took Éomer’s cock in hir hand. Ze leaned forward to place kisses and bites over Éomer’s back. At last Aragorn’s movements became less restrained, hir hand pumping harder and faster around Éomer’s cock. Aragorn came first, growling against Éomer’s spine as ze spilled. Ze pulled out and Éomer turned over and dragged hir mouth to his. Ze took hold of his cock once more, brushing his nipple with hir thumb, until he came with a yell that was muffled by hir mouth.

They stayed still for a few minutes, breathing hard against each other and occasionally swapping content and lazy kisses.

“There’s a cloth under the sink,” Éomer said, and Aragorn nodded as ze got up, throwing the condom away and pulling the blinds shut on the darkening sky as ze crossed the room. Ze came back with the cloth and cleaned Éomer up, then curled up beside him. He wrapped hir in his arms and buried his face in hir hair.

“Next time you’re feeling lonely,” he said, running his fingertips over the bumps of hir ribs, “come and tell me. Don’t let it make you unhappy.”

Aragorn’s forefinger was tracing an invisible line back and forth over Éomer’s sternum.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” ze said quietly. “I didn’t think you’d have time, what with all your work.”

“I always have time for you,” said Éomer, tightening his arms around hir briefly. Aragorn’s face split into a wide, sleepy grin and ze stretched out until ze was sprawled over Éomer and their legs were tangled together. Éomer smiled back as he pulled the duvet over them both.

~*~

Aragorn walked out at the end of hir Biblical Aramaic exam feeling relatively confident and walked back to hir flat. Ze found Éomer and Éowyn piling up bags and suitcases in the hallway.

“You off now then?” ze asked as ze let hirself into hir room and dumped hir bag on the floor inside the door.

“Yeah,” said Éomer. “We’ll be back just after New Year.”

Aragorn leaned against the doorframe as ze watched Éomer bring the last of his bags out of his room and locked the door.

“You want some help getting that to the car?” ze asked.

“Could you?” Éomer replied. “Uncle Théoden should be up in a minute, but he’s helping Théodred at the moment.”

They all took a bag in each hand and began lugging them down the stairs. Théoden’s large car was parked, boot open, just outside, with a horse trailer attached to the tow bar. Aragorn could hear the horses already inside.

As they were packing the bags into the car, a middle-aged man with a beard approached them, also carrying bags.

“Théodred’s just saying goodbye to Boromir,” he said as he put the bags into the boot. “And who’s this?”

Éomer moved to stand at Aragorn’s side.

“Uncle Théoden, this is my datefriend, Aragorn,” he said. Aragorn flushed slightly at the word ‘datefriend’, as ze and Éomer had never really used such titles before, and held out his hand to Théoden. Ze saw the older man’s eyebrow twitch, and knew that Théodred had probably told him about hir and his suspicions regarding the White Hand, but he smiled warmly as he shook Aragorn’s hand.

“So this is Aragorn,” he said. “These two and Théodred have told me a lot about you.”

Aragorn looked away, slightly embarrassed.

“Shall we go and get the other bags?” said Éomer, coming to the rescue. Between the four of them, they only had to make the one trip. Once all the bags were safely packed into the boot, Éomer caught Aragorn around the waist and pulled hir close.

“You’ll be alright over the holidays, yeah?” he asked. Aragorn nodded.

“Legolas and Halbarad are still here, and Arwen’s just down the road. I’m only going home for a few days before I’m off to Germany with Halbarad until just before Christmas. And there are old friends from home I’d like to see.”

Éomer nodded.

“I’ll be on Skype,” he said, kissing Aragorn on the mouth. He let go of hir and turned to the car with a wave. Aragorn watched them go, then wandered out to the stables.


End file.
